by C. C. Monö
He looked up just as she started her way across the floor with confident steps. In one graceful flow, she placed her wine glass on the coffee table, pulled up her black skirt and straddled him. With both hands on his cheeks, she kissed him; not sensual and loving, but hard and aggressive. Overwhelmed by the rush of unexpected sexual tension, he responded. Her fingers found their way to the back of his neck and then his hair. She grabbed him, pulling his head back so she towered over him as they kissed.
Axel’s hands found her waist. Sensing her hunger and determination, his grip tightened and she gasped in pleasure. She bit his lip while her hips moved back and forth in a powerful, rhythmic motion. Then her hand moved towards his manhood in a playful manner.
The touch jolted Axel back to reality, and to his shock he realised he wanted her to stop. It was madness, but he couldn’t sleep with Izabella. He just couldn’t and the reason was simple; he was thinking of Nicole.
Fearing how she would react, he gave her a gentle push while moving his head to the side.
“I can’t…”
Izabella leaned back, her hair falling over her right shoulder.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t do this.”
She laughed, stroking her hand between his legs.
“It sure feels like you can.”
He moved her hand away.
“No. I can’t.”
Izabella’s face turned serious and her eyes lit up with a sudden wrath.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I can’t sleep with you.”
Izabella gawked at him. He could see her mind trying to understand what was going on, until all of a sudden, her eyes widened.
“Are you gay?”
Axel stared at her.
“What? Hell no!”
She stood up.
“Then what’s the problem? I come here for some fun and you push me away!”
“I’m sorry…”
“Screw you! You’re not sorry!”
“I’m tired. I have an essay to complete by tomorrow, and frankly…I know that a lot of guys would jump at this offer, but come on, a one-night-stand would mean trouble for the both of us.”
“Shit! You are gay!”
“No I…”
“Go to hell!”
Without another word, she stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Axel moaned. He’d not thought it possible, but life at the Academy had just become even more problematic.
CHAPTER 69
“What’s wrong with Izabella?” Paul asked the following day at lunch. “Is she avoiding us?”
Axel shrugged.
“Who knows?” he muttered, shoving a large piece of a delicious chicken pie into his mouth.
Thabo gave him a funny look that said, “why do I get a feeling you do know the reason?” Axel ignored him by attacking his pie with silent vigour, and Thabo was smart enough not to ask any questions.
Nevertheless, in the week that followed, no one could escape the fact that Izabella was avoiding her study group. She hung out with Ava and Cordelia instead, which was fine by Axel. It wasn’t his problem that she couldn’t take a rejection.
Paul, the traitor, was desperate to continue his squash sessions with Izabella, and so when he figured out it was Axel she was angry with, he too began evading the Swede.
Thabo, on the other hand, remained diplomatic. Although he spent most of his time with Axel, he was careful not to take sides. His only comment about the situation was made after another one of Professor Evans more eccentric classes.
The students gathered in the Cabin late one Wednesday afternoon.
“What the heck,” Edward muttered and whiffed the air as he walked into the small room. “What’s that smell?”
Professor Evans beamed.
“Why don’t you take a little peek, Mr Reed?” she chirped and opened the door to the Chamber.
A strong smell of hay, mud, and wet wool washed over them. Edward glanced in and his jaw dropped.
“Sheep?”
The professor stepped aside.
“Yes! There you have your followers.”
“Whew! They stink!” Julie grimaced and covered her mouth and nose with her hand. “You go first,” she added, giving Axel a push into the Chamber.
What he saw baffled him. The spotlights in the high ceiling were so bright it was no different to standing outside on a sunny day. In the middle of the Chamber was a huge paddock, holding a number of sheep that grazed in peace among lush, green grass.
“I bet somewhere, a farmer is scratching his head, wondering who stole his field,” Aseem joked, and, in the excitement, his Indian accent grew more pronounced.
“Come over here, please,” Professor Evans said, pretending not to hear Aseem. She was standing in front of the wide gate leading into the paddock. “Today you’ll be working in two teams. To succeed with the exercise, you must first herd all the sheep to that red flag over there.” She pointed at a flag positioned on the right-hand side. “Once that’s been done, you must separate the sheep into three groups. As you can see, each sheep has a colour painted on its side. Sheep with a red marking are to remain at the red flag. Sheep with a blue marking must be herded to the blue flag over there.” She pointed straight ahead. “The remaining sheep, the ones with a green marking, have to be herded to the green flag on your left. The team that completes the task in the shortest amount of time wins.”
Edward scratched his beard.
“All right, so what’s the prize? What do we win?”
“Honour, Mr Reed,” said a scornful voice behind them. Professor Jackson strode into the Chamber with an intolerable air of smugness to him. “Or is honour not a prize worth fighting for?”
Axel glared at the man with suspicion. Now what?
Edward hesitated, probably wondering the same thing, for he had a perplexed expression on his otherwise self-assured face.
At that point, a loud and cheerful murmur reached the students. Soon, the other professors began to pour in, yakking and laughing like a group of old friends heading out for a night in Vegas. As the students watched them with growing confusion, more doors opened around the Chamber and what seemed to be an endless number of loud and jovial staff members appeared.
“What in the world is going on,” Dalilah whispered.
“Welcome to the battle of Baa.” Professor Jackson grinned.
The stunned students gawked at the teachers and staff members filling the Chamber around them.
“Battle of Baa?” Edward echoed.
“Indeed, Mr Reed. Or, if you prefer, The Battle of Honour.” The assistant principal chuckled. “Well, I better leave before all the good spots are taken. Good luck.”
Still chuckling, and with a worrying spring in his step, he walked off. As one, the students turned to Professor Evans.
“Ah, yes,” she beamed, seeing their confused faces. “The Battle of Baa is one of the most entertaining events here at the Academy. Even Principal Cunningham participates when he can. He was very disappointed that he couldn’t join us today.”
“Oh my God,” Layla whispered as the spectators spread out around the paddock. “They’re going to watch us?”
“So it seems,” Thabo said, “and they’re coming well prepared, I see.”
He nodded towards two members of the staff who were setting up a table with drinks of various kinds; from soft drinks to bottles of whiskey.
“Please pay attention.” Professor Evans clapped her hands. “I want you to organise yourself into two groups, with three men and three women in each group.”
Izabella and Paul were quick to join Edward, Ava, Cordelia and Federico, leaving Axel, Thabo, and Aseem in one group with Julie, Dalilah, and Layla.
“I don’t like sheep,” Julie whined as she considered the paddock. “They’re dumb, silly and they smell.”
“No different from followers,” Federico jeered.
“You’ll go first,�
�� Professor Evans called, nodding towards Izabella and Paul’s group. “Remember that in order to succeed you must communicate with each other.”
“Piece of cake.” Edward grinned as he passed Axel. “Look and learn.”
Proud as a peacock among ducks, he strutted onto the field with the others in his team, reminding them it was time to prove their honour.
Five minutes later, their honour was in serious trouble. The students were running, screaming, and gesturing like mad, but all they had done was turn the paddock into a muddy soup. The sheep remained unorganised.
“Talk to one another,” Professor Evans hollered. “Communicate, for God’s sake! You have to work as a team.”
Nearby, Axel and his teammates were clinging to the wooden fence, laughing so hard it was difficult to breath. They weren’t alone. The Chamber shook under the roars of laughter and whistles. The spectators were thrilled. Professor Plouffe even raised his wine glass in a loud cheer every time a sheep outran one of the students; his big belly bounced merrily as he laughed. At one point, a sheep darted past, followed by wild-eyed Cordelia who tripped and fell face first into the mud with a high-pitched cry. This brought fierce applause from the enthusiastic crowd who began to chant, “We want more, we want more,” with burning passion.
“Now that’s what I call a mud-mask,” Dalilah whispered with a giggle as Cordelia stood up.
“Listen, guys, I have an idea,” Layla mused. “Getting all the sheep to the red flag didn’t seem that hard. The difficulty appears to be splitting the group and guiding them to the different flags.”
“I was thinking the same,” Thabo agreed. “The sheep were calm when standing together in one group.”
“Exactly,” Layla nodded. “I think it’ll be easier if we split the herd into their separate colours first, and then guide the different groups to their positions.”
“That’s a great idea!” Aseem exclaimed. “Let’s do it!”
“Axel and I can guide the green sheep,” Thabo suggested.
Layla rolled up her long, black hair in a simple bun and gave Aseem a tiny smile.
“Aseem and I can take the blue.”
“Sounds good.” Dalilah turned to Julie. “Then we’ll keep the remaining sheep near the red flag.”
With the plan set, the six students turned their attention back to the events in the paddock.
It took another twenty minutes for the first team to complete the exercise. By then they had the appearance of muddy scarecrows, trudging out of the paddock in shame to the sound of jeering spectators.
“All right,” Dalilah said, punching Axel on the shoulder. “Ready to kick some ass?”
It wasn’t easy, nor was it pretty. They had to struggle to get the sheep in place, but in the end, Axel and his team completed the exercise twice as fast as the first team. They were mocked and heckled throughout the process, but when they left the paddock fifteen minutes later, the spectators rewarded them genuine applause, and, to Axel, no sound could have been sweeter. They’d won the spectators’ approval.
“Well done!” Professor Evans exclaimed, clapping her hands as they approached her. “Excellent strategy and great communication.”
“Shit, Aseem.” Dalilah laughed as she and Julie came squelching out of the paddock. “The way you dragged the last bugger to the pole…wow!”
Aseem wiped his forehead and gave her a nonchalant shrug. Well, nonchalant or not, he couldn’t hide his pride.
“You were right, Ed,” Axel scoffed as he passed Edward. “It was a piece of cake.”
“All right, settle down,” Professor Evans said, clapping her hands again. “Give me a minute of your time.” She was struggling to make herself heard as the spectators, not unlike screaming hooligans after a game of soccer, withdrew from the Chamber. “Well done all of you,” she continued. “Tomorrow we’ll discuss the various communication strategies you used – or in some cases, didn’t use – during the exercise. We’ll also discuss how mockery and lack of focus can affect an individual’s focus and communication abilities. You’ll find all the details on Eagle Net.”
She waved them off. Muddy and exhausted, they all trudged out of the Chamber.
“I hope Paul and Izabella learnt their lesson,” Thabo whispered to Axel.
Axel pulled off his wet and cold sweatshirt.
“What do you mean?”
“They’re both blinded by their feelings. Izabella is mad at you because you don’t love her, and Paul is mad at Izabella because she’s not interested in him. It’s childish. Had they been more professional, they would have been on our team and they would have won.”
Baffled, Axel stared at his friend.
“How do you know about Izabella’s feelings for me?”
“Please. Even the sheep can see it.” That was all he said about it. When Axel pressured him for more information about Paul’s feelings for Izabella, he shook his head. “We mustn’t gossip, Axel. We are professionals, remember?”
CHAPTER 70
Two weeks later, Thabo’s point about the necessity of being professional became clear. The first class of the day was Security and Defence with Mr Nakata. Since Black Sunday, Axel’s feelings for Mr Nakata and his training had been cool, to say the least.
Once they’d pledged allegiance to leadership and the Academy, Axel dropped into his chair and stared at the hologram logo above his desk. In the front of the room, Mr Nakata seemed to prepare himself for whatever sinister game he had in mind.
“Safety,” he began in a low voice, tapping his right temple with his finger, “come from here. If you ready for danger, then you are more safe. If not ready, you become weak and easy victim.” He dropped his hand and stood silent for a moment. “Mr Harris, come here.”
“Me, sir?” Paul blurted, confused.
“Hai. Come here.”
Paul, who was sitting beside Delilah, gave her a little shrug and ambled up to Mr Nakata.
“Do you think of your safety, Mr Harris?”
Paul studied the short man.
“Eh…”
Their Security and Defence frowned.
“‘Eh’ is not answer, Mr Harris.”
Someone giggled nervously and Paul’s face hardened.
“I think I do, sir.”
The windows began to darken until the room was black as night. Next to Axel, Thabo was spinning a pencil between his thumb and index finger. They exchanged a quick look before a picture appeared on the wall behind Paul. A loud murmur broke out among the students.
“Oh no,” Axel mumbled, “they’ve got cameras in our rooms!”
Paralysed, slack-jawed, and confused, Paul stared at a blurry picture of himself standing by his bed, wearing nothing but his underwear.
“You say you think of safety,” Mr Nakata lectured. “We shall see if this is true.”
He pressed a remote and the video began to play, showing Paul in the process of getting dressed. He was swaying his hips to some instrumental song that Axel didn’t recognise, and he was…singing.
“Bella, Bella, you’re so fine; I love you, will you please be mine?” Next to Mr Nakata, Paul’s face drained of colour to a point near transparency. “Bella, Bella, hot and sweet; I’m gonna sweep you off your feet.”
“Please, sir,” Paul begged, his voice croaky and trembling. “Turn it off.”
Mr Nakata pointedly ignored him, and in the video, Paul did a few obscene humping moves while buttoning his shirt. Amused, Axel glanced over his shoulder, and met Izabella’s eyes in the dim light. She gave him a wrathful glare.
“It’s not funny,” she growled.
“Come on, it’s hilarious,” he mouthed back, struggling not to laugh aloud, but peering back at Thabo, he was met by a grave expression. In fact, all the other students wore solemn faces, which was very odd considering the circumstances.
“…With a bit of luck; I’ll take you home so we can fu…”
“Oh dear.” Thabo sighed and closed his eyes.
The video s
topped and Mr Nakata turned to his class. He paused long enough to make the silence uncomfortable.
“So, did Mr Harris think safety? Is this how people imagine a leader?”
The silence was oppressive. Axel scanned around the room and, realising that no one else was saying anything, he shrugged.
“No, sir.”
He looked at Paul and met an angry and disappointed face. How the hell had Thabo figured out that Paul had a crush on Izabella?
“And what happen if Mr Harris’ followers saw this video?” Mr Nakata continued.
“He’d lose his credibility,” Axel replied.
Paul winced and Axel felt sorry for the guy. He really did. If anyone did see this video, no follower would ever take Paul seriously again.
Mr Nakata nodded and turned to Paul.
“Hai, you have not been thinking safety, Mr Harris. You can return.”
With his head low, Paul hurried back to his seat, where Dalilah whispered something in his ear and patted him on his shoulder.
“Ms Martins, come here.”
“Oh shit,” Izabella moaned from behind and got to her feet. “Not me.”
“I have a feeling we will all stand up there today,” Thabo said.
“You too, Mr Hallman. Come here.”
At that moment, Axel’s heart sank. He knew what was to come. Mr Nakata started the video and Axel saw himself in his living room, watching Izabella by the aquarium.
“I love sharks,” she said. “They’re so powerful…They…There’s intensity in their eyes…You have it too.”
Axel closed his eyes. He could hear the students gasp when the kissing began. He heard his and Izabella’s heavy breathing and then:
“I can’t…”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“It feels like you can.”
“No! I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I can’t sleep with you.”
“Are you gay?”
“What? Hell no!”
Mr Nakata turned off the video and the sound faded out.
“Is this how a leader should act, Ms Martins?”
